


Drink About

by SYNIC4L



Category: Banana Bus Squad, Gay baby gang
Genre: Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Sad Ending, itll be two chapters for happy and sad, right now im just sad so this is gonna be angsty as fuck and somebody gon die, so uh, so you can just read the one you want, warning--this will be sad.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-14 06:19:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16034738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SYNIC4L/pseuds/SYNIC4L
Summary: john can't quite think straight. it's probably the alcohol in his system, but fuck, it's like a key was turned in his brain, pulling out everything he stored away in hopes that maybe they'd disappear for good. it's not like he wanted to fall in love with his fucking dumbass of a best friend. the one with the stupid, adorable smile, and his garbage dorky memes.ugh.he needs another drink.





	1. Anybody Else But You

**Author's Note:**

> inspiration for this came from the song drink about by seeb xoxo

John was sprawled out on his living room carpet, his arms spread out, one hand clutching his vape, the other holding a bottle of Vodka. His shoulder length hair was messily spread across the ground beneath his head as he stared blankly at the ceiling, eyes half lidded. The man lifted his vape to his lips and took a hit, blowing the smoke up above his head, then took a drink from the bottle. He'd already been drinking before he collapsed on the floor, and had accidentally stumbled into a table and cut his leg. It was probably bleeding still. He could feel the blood sticking to his leg, but everything else was numb. His mind, his body, his pain. Actually. Fuck that. It wasn't numb when the flowers came back. Even alcohol couldn't get rid of the dumb, fucking things. 

Soft, pink Camellia flower petals fell from John's mouth as he sat up suddenly, coughing violently and catching a few in his hands before letting the petals fall to the floor. It wasn't like everything wasn't already covered in the damn things. This was a problem that the man had been dealing with for nearly three weeks now. He tried covering it up at first but.. It wasn't like anyone was gonna come over anyway. So he gave up, and let them pile up. Most of the petals were in the bathroom or his bedroom, but everywhere had at least a few. John was supposed to be recording tonight, he suddenly remembered through his alcoholic haze. With Jaren of all people. The moron who screwed John over. Who'd easily made him fall head over heels for him with his voice and his smile, his silly commentary and his care for John. He probably cared about him more than anyone else. Other than his own parents. Probably. 

Not like that helped him, it made it worse, really. 

John staggered to his feet, taking another hit from both items in his hands. First the Vodka this time, then the vape. God, he was so fucking fucked. 

 It physically hurt to think about Jaren now. Every thought was full of how goddamn lovely he was, and how much John wanted to kiss his dumb fucking face, and it tore at John's heart until it was left in shreds. 

He staggered into his room, pausing in the door frame to cough again, somewhat bloodied petals coming up this time. A normal person would be freaked out about the petals his body forced out of him. A normal person would be worried about the blood on said petals. A normal person would tell his friends the truth instead of saying that all he had was a cold. 

He wasn't an idiot. He knew he would die once he ran out of time. But he'd rather keep quiet than risk losing his best friend forever. Hell, he could probably get the surgery and be done with it but.. He refused. No, he wasn't particularly afraid of death anymore. That wasn't saying he wanted to die. He just knew that everyone would question why he was in the goddamn hospital for surgery and they'd figure it out and he'd probably lose Jaren that way too so FUCK IT. FUCK IT ALL!

John stumbled to his computer and sat down, taking a few ragged breaths so he would be breathing normally when the next round of petals came. But almost immediately after he caught his breath, Discord popped up on his computer, showing that Jaren had messaged him. With another cough and a petal, John clicked the tab and read the message. It was just a friendly reminder for him to join the voice channel in their server. "Join us, bitch :3" Did it matter if it was mildly threatening? Not really. So long as it was Jaren. He was mildly threatening all the time.

John's words didn't match his thoughts while they all played together--him, Jaren, Craig, Evan, and David. He was the same as he always was, albeit more tired and coughing up petals every couple minutes.

"Sorry. It's been getting worse." He replied once Jaren pointed out that he sounded a lot worse than the last time they'd talked. "Yeah, no shit. You better be taking care of yourself, John." He huffed into his mic. 

"Chilllllll, man, I'm just fine." The irony was that almost as soon as the words left his mouth, John broke down coughing again. "Shit guys, nevermind. I should probably go uh, drink some soup or some shit. I got my footage. Night." And with that, he clicked out of the call and shut down everything in silence before he stepped over to his bed and sat down, then broke down sobbing softly into his hands. Sometimes he prided himself on how little he cried, but he never mentioned how when he did cry, he couldn't stop. How he only cried when he couldn't bring himself to do anything else. He also never mentioned how he'd been crying more and more lately. Every day at this point.

Suddenly his phone started playing You Reposted In The Wrong Neighborhood, the one special ringtone he'd downloaded specifically for Jaren's contact. He really didn't want to answer. He just wanted to sleep. But he found himself answering barely a second later. 

"Hey, man. We just talked like a minute ago. What's up?" He asked, hoping to god that he didn't sound like he'd been crying.

"Dude. I'm worried about you. You've been sick all of this week and last week--" False. It'd been nearly 3. John was just able to hide the coughing for awhile.

"Being sick for a couple weeks isn't that bad, I--"

"I'm coming over."

"What? Smii7y--" John cut himself off with a coughing fit.

"John, we haven't seen each other in awhile anyway, I was gonna visit soon, remember? Why shouldn't I come now and help you out while you recover?" 

"Please, Smitt, not yet. Just wait like. Fuck. A week? Then you can come, a'ight?" He sensed his friend hesitating, and grew more and more worried that he'd come anyway.

"Why? Give me one good reason."

"I'm busy with a couple things, and I gotta clean. I'll be done by the end of the week I swear."

"Fine. A week. I'm buying a ticket now though, so you can't take it back." Jaren finally gave in and John let out the breath he'd been holding. 

"Thank you, Jaren." He spoke softly, smiling, though it hurt.

"Anything for you, man. Now get some sleep, okay?" 

"Fine, fine. Talk to you later." He pressed the end call button just as he felt the flowers tickling the back of his throat, and he coughed up the next round, then brushed them off of his bed. 

He really should clean everything up before next week. Before Jaren came. But he didn't want to. Maybe by some stroke of luck everything would be okay, maybe Jaren would say that he really did love John in a not-so-platonic way, and he could take all his pain away.

But something told him it wasn't gonna happen. He wasn't good enough.

Fuuuuck, he needed more Vodka.

\--

It was barely an hour later but John was collapsed on his bed, the bottle mostly empty by now and his vape lay forgotten next to him. 

Jaren was all he could think about. Jaren this. Jaren that.

Memories surfaced in his brain, playing like movies before him without his consent.

That weekend when Jaren came over for a couple days, and the day they got drunk together, Jaren for the first time ever. He definitely forgot everything when they woke up. But John didn't. He remembered his friend's cute flushed face, and how cute and flustered he got when John drunkenly teased and flirted with him. He vividly remembered Jaren kissing him to shut him up, and how they both burst out giggling and collapsed in each other's arms on the floor for a bit. He never brought it up though. The one time Jaren kissed him. He assumed it was just the alcohol's effect on him if anything.

He remembered the day he told Jaren how much he hated himself. And how his friend spent nearly 3 hours talking to him to reassure him and tell him just how amazing he was, and how he'd nearly started crying then. Then replied with a rant about how amazing Jaren was too, and then they both were crying.

 

 

 

 

_Telling you the truth, you make it so damn hard to just not give a fuck._

 

John woke up the next day with a god awful headache, and he spent the day sleeping and coughing up more flowers. The day after, he got up again and attempted to record a video, but it seemed everyone was worried now, especially because the coughing was constant. So, John changed his speaking settings to push to talk, and lifted his finger whenever he coughed. Everyone noticed, and most of them figured out what he was doing in no time. 

That's when he quit again, and went offline. He didn't want to deal with it anymore, he needed another nap. 

His bed was covered in flowers after yesterday, despite how clean he'd tried to keep it in the weeks before.. It was covered, so he laid down on top of the petals and passed out immediately.

\--

He was back to drinking away his problems the next day, once more spread out on his living room carpet with petals scattered around him. His eyes were glazed over as he blankly stared up at his plain white ceiling. "God, Smitt. Fuck off." He mumbled to himself, as memories of their time together continued playing in his head. He'd taken a shower just yesterday to rid himself of all the blood on his leg, in his mouth, on his hands. He nearly clogged the shower drain with petals.

He wasn't getting much sleep anymore. His nights were spent choking on flowers, and bags were starting to form under his eyes.

He should tell someone. He should probably tell Jaren. As least write him a letter in case he was too late, yknow?

So he did.

John made his way back to his room, spending hours attempting to write for Jaren. He pushed flowers off his desk, pushing through the pain. Blood lightly spattered across the paper occasionally. He couldn't care anymore.

His chest hurt so  _goddamn much_. His heart felt like somebody dug a knife straight into the middle and twisted, all while flowers began to grow and grow until they filled his lungs and there wasn't any room left.

John couldn't breathe when he stumbled to his bed and collapsed on the blanket of flowers.

He was dying from the inside out.

Fuck Smii7y. Fuck his cute face and beautiful eyes. 

_Damn you Smii7y for making me fall in love._

_Sorry.. Damb. Haha,,_


	2. Think About Anybody Else

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> smii7y kept his word, he could never lie to john. not about something like this. but maybe he should've just this once. after all, doing so might've saved his best friend's life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS THE BAD ENDING!   
> Be cautious while reading, there is death and lots of sadness so,,, yeah.

John hadn't moved much for the past three hours. He'd been drifting in and out of consciousness, flowers and blood flowing from his mouth constantly. He wondered what his fans would think when he suddenly disappeared off the face of the earth. He wondered what all his friends would think too. Except.. They'd know the truth. Because Jaren was coming. And he'd be the one to find John here, he'd be the one to tell them.

He wondered if he should've just gotten the surgery to get the flowers removed. He wouldn't die that way but.. Part of him would be ripped away permanently. A part that.. Even if John did survive, could he really be happy afterwards without the ability to love? 

It didn't matter anymore. Even if he wanted to call someone to save his life, he was in too much agony to do so. The man let out a shaky breath as soon as he felt a break between the petals. It was his final time to breathe before he knew it'd finally be done. Finally, he'd be able to rest without coughing up his heart.

The paper he clutched to his chest rustled, then grew still as his chest rose and fell slower and slower. Slower.. And slower..

\--

So, Jaren had molded the truth. Just a lil bit. Into a way where John couldn't argue with him. He booked the plane five days after the call, which probably wasn't the type of week John meant, but Jaren was too worried to give a shit now, he needed to see his best friend. Especially because said best friend had been ignoring his damn texts and calls for the past two days, and the stupid plane couldn't seem to go faster. 

When Jaren was finally on the ground, he took off, grabbing all his stuff as quick as he could and rushing out of the airport to where his Uber awaited him. He was winded by the time he got into the car, but he wasted no time in telling the driver John's address. "Drive. Just drive." He spoke, panting a bit for breath and leaning back in his seat. 

The driver seemed to hear the urgency in the young male's voice, and he booked it, arriving there 10 minutes before it should have been possible, and Jaren rewarded him grandly. And then he was off yet again, sprinting towards John's door and pounding on it. It was 6pm, he had to be awake. "John? Open the fucking door, man. You can't get rid of me that easily." He called out once a few minutes had passed. No answer was given, and that's when panic seized Jaren's heart. He dropped everything on the porch and searched a small hollow statue on ground for the spare key and used it to unlock the door. He didn't bother putting it back, he just shoved it into his pocket and burst into the house. He didn't care about his luggage either.

"John?" His worried call echoed through the empty house, and as soon as Jaren's foot touched the ground, dread and panic had fully set in. The place was a mess of flowers and blood. Not a lot of blood, but you could smell it, and see it staining the petals that littered the ground. 

"J-john? Buddy?" Jaren tried again, his voice cracking halfway through as he blinked back tears. His brain knew what he was going to find. His brain knew all too well. But it was his heart that still held on to the hope that he might be alive.

The young man got over his initial shock and started moving, immediately heading towards John's bedroom. He wanted to run. He wanted to race to his side. But he could hardly move. It was all he could do to walk slowly like this. The door was already open, and Jaren barely had to push it to get through. 

He almost looked like he was just asleep at first, if it wasn't for the dried tears in his eyes, and the bloody flower blooming in his chest. 

Jaren couldn't hold back his emotions anymore, he felt himself snap, and collapsed to the floor, sobbing softly into his hands and letting the tears roll down his arms and hit the floor. He knew all too well just what'd happened to him. 

Slowly, almost like a robot, Jaren got up and moved towards John again, though tears still rolled down his cheeks. He reached out, taking the letter from his palm and holding it tight. Then, he sat next to him to read, lightly threading his fingers through John's cold ones. 

_heya smitt. sorry you had to find me like this. uhhh idk if you can tell but um. i died. from pining. over you. yeah yeah i know i shouldve told you but what would i have done if you'd rejected me? i couldnt live through that either._

_im sorry man._

_i love you_

_i love you so so much_

_please tell the others that i love them too_

_not as much as i love you but_

_yknow_

_haha_

_bye jaren_

_seeya in hell <3_

 

Tears spattered across the paper as Jaren read, the thin sheet trembling in his hands.

"J-ohn, you f-fucking idiot, I love you too. I love you too." He whispered, clutching the note tightly in his hand, and clinging to John's hand for dear life. "R.. Ride or die, buddy." He mumbled, feeling the terrible tickle in the back of his throat. 

It wasn't long before Red Dahlia petals coated the bed as well. It was, perhaps, the most beautiful, and most tragic death anyone had walked in on. Two young men in love, covered in blood, tears, and flowers. Jaren never ended up talking to any of their other friends before he joined John.


	3. But You..

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> technically speaking, he wasn't lying when he bought his tickets. john said he would "be done by the end of the week", and it was thursday. so jaren bought tickets for the first flight to washington on sunday morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the good end! Prepare for some angst with a happy ending!
> 
>  
> 
> It's also kinda like a parallel to the bad ending, and you'll see why if you've read both.

Okay, so, maybe he'd lied a little bit when he said Sunday morning. That was when he was arriving, technically, but the flight took off at 12am, and arrived sometime in the early, early morning. Perfect timing to keep his promise and still get to John quickly. 

That's how Jaren ended up at John's door at 4:30 in the morning, tired, worried, and a mess. He knocked on the door--hard. When John didn't open the door, he immediately grabbed the spare key and unlocked the stupid thing without hesitation. He heard a noise from somewhere inside as the door opened, and his heart stopped for a moment at the sight before his eyes. The sight of flowers and blood all around the room made Jaren want to cry, but he refused, suddenly breaking from his trance and slamming the door shut, then he sped into John's room. The door was already ajar, so he had no trouble bursting in to see his friend collapsed on his bed with his eyes closed, his alarm clock on the ground where he'd presumably pushed it off of the bedside table a few moments earlier. He wasn't dead yet. Jaren was right on time.

"John-- John, wake up, please, you gotta tell me how I can help you, I.." Jaren begged, instantly hurrying to his side and pulling his friend up to a sitting position. John's eyes fluttered open, a pained look staining his blue irises. 

"Smitt.."

"Please, just tell me who it is, or I'm gonna call an ambulance for the surgery, you gotta live, John--"

"Smitty--"

"I don't care what you think of yourself, I am NOT letting you die, you're my best friend and I--"

"For fuck's sake-- JAREN! It's you!" John finally spoke up as loud as he could, voice trembling. That stopped Jaren right in his tracks. 

He stared at his best friend for a moment, his heart racing in his chest, and then he was leaning in to capture his lips in a bloody kiss.

The tickle that was always at the back of John's throat was gone immediately, and all the aching and pain in his heart had vanished, all he could feel was the heat in his cheeks and Jaren's lips on his, and he pulled him closer.

\--

The flower petals melted away just as quickly as the ones in John's throat did, disappearing into nothing. Even the blood disappeared with them.

Not that John or Jaren noticed right away.

They were still kissing, their mouth locked together and their hands intertwined now, clinging to one another for dear life.

When they finally parted, they were tears spilling from John's eyes, and his hands were pulling Jaren closer to him. He hugged his best friend as tight as he could and buried his face into his shoulder. Jaren didn't miss a beat and was hugging him back before John could blink, and his hand lightly rubbed circles on his back. 

Nothing was different with John's body after all those flowers, but his mind definitely had changed, as had his heart. Because now, it beat for Jaren. Every thump in his chest felt like a whisper of his name, and every thought in his mind was simply "Jaren".

Jaren was crying too, and still hugging John like he might disappear if he let go. After all, he nearly had just moments earlier. If Jaren had been just hours later..

"I'm-- I'm sorry, Smitty." John whispered, his voice giving away how exhausted he suddenly was.

"Shhh, I'm not gonna say it's okay for you to pull that shit, but I don't wanna yell at you right now. You need to sleep." Finally, Jaren pulled back, though he kept his hands resting on John's shoulders.

"I can head out to the living room and sleep on the couch until whenever we get the extra mattress set u--"

"Hell no. Stay with me." John cut him off, flopping backwards onto the bed and pulling Jaren with him. 

"Are you sure?" He asked, and John pulled him down more so Jaren was laying halfway next to him, halfway on top of him. 

"Fine, I'll stay. But I'm gonna go get my luggage off your porch first. I'll be back." With that, Jaren finally stood up and hurried out of the room and to the front door, yanking it open and haphazardly tossing his stuff inside. Once everything was in, he rushed back to John's side. He kicked off his jeans, as he didn't feel like changing into pajamas or something, and jeans are NOT good for sleeping in, and then he curled up under the blankets with his best friend again. Arms slipped around his waist relatively quickly, pulling him closer.

"I.. I love you, John." Jaren spoke softly, grinning up at him.

"I love ya too, Smitt." John replied, leaning down to lightly kiss him once more before he let his head touch the pillow, and he was out like a light, with his best friend now snuggling closer and joining him as soon as he could.


End file.
